Inter-dimensional Cable & Chill
by astranauta
Summary: Rick/Morty. Morty wants attention and Rick gives it to him.


The summer months were long, hot, and boring. Morty didn't have many friends, was never around enough for any extracurricular activities, and school was out, not that Morty was a regular attendee, which meant there was truly nothing to do. Ordinarily, Rick would be pulling him off for some ridiculous fucking adventure every time he felt like it- day or night, in the middle of the hallway at school or just before he went downstairs to open Christmas Presents, regardless of Morty's own enthusiasm to join him. But Rick had been distant since the summer started, disappearing by himself for weeks at a time and rarely dragging Morty along with him. And Morty had nothing but time to sit and wonder why.

Rick was anything but open with his emotions. Even if he did show a shred of vulnerability, he had to be blind drunk to do it and Morty could never trust that it was genuine because it always came wrapped in sarcasm and anger and immediately followed by some kind of betrayal or trick.

Morty, on the other hand, was soft and tender and often couldn't stop his eyes from watering when he thought about what could be going on between he and Rick. Was his grandpa mad at him? Had he done something wrong? Self-loathing and insecurity plagued him. With each night Rick spent looking right through him, on the rare occasion that he was home to eat dinner with the family, and each big, green portal Rick opened in the garage and stepped through alone without looking back, Morty grew all the more desperate for his attention. The raging heat didn't help, either. Morty constantly found himself anxious and sweaty, even more so than usual, the feelings of abandonment Rick was causing in him bubbling up inside and threatening to explode at any moment.

 _He's never done this. Never been like this. What am I supposed to do?_

The exact questions Morty pondered as he sulked quietly in the doorway to the living room. Rick was sitting on the couch flicking through the infinite channels on the homemade inter-dimensional cable device he had created to one-up his family. _Flick, flick, flick_ , no channel stayed on longer than a few seconds. Morty even saw Rick flip past the old classics that they used to love to watch together. _Ball_ _Fondlers_. _Gazorpazorpfield_. Rick always claimed the channels were too vast to remember—"infinite timelines, infinite possibilities"—but Morty suspected he kept track of the channel numbers for at least some of their favorites.

 _What's wrong with him?_

Morty couldn't see Rick's face, but he suspected it was fixed in the only arrangement it ever seemed to be in: stony detachment, if permanently irritated. The cool blue light of the TV screen washed the room in pale, flashing light that changed with each scene cut. Morty leaned against the door frame, one hand running nervously along the bottoms of his soft grey shorts. It was too hot for anything other than tiny shorts and a tank-top, and Morty's skin was flushed and sticky already, even despite his minimal clothing. He looked down at his own pale legs, his sock feet, feeling sorry for himself but also sorry for Rick.

Morty hadn't considered, up until this point, that Rick might be hurting, or in need of something. He had been so consumed with self-pity and anger, assuming Rick was ignoring him out of malice. It wasn't as if it were unfair to assume, Rick did a lot of things out of pettiness and spite. Morty shifted his weight from foot to foot, considering for the first time in months just being direct with Rick. The thought itself made him weak- he had ignored the issue in the first place because he was sure he'd break down into tears in the middle of telling Rick how lonely and abandoned he felt, something that Rick would _absolutely_ not respect. But something, maybe the sweltering summer heat or the restless _flick, flick, flick-_ ing of the absurdist television programming, had Morty feeling bold.

The teal fabric was cool against Morty's skin as he slid onto the couch next to his grandpa. He kept some distance between them, careful not to lean back into Rick's arm where it rest on the back of the couch. Looking up at his face, Morty could see how tired Rick looked. Somehow, his eyes looked even more empty than usual, and the bags beneath them seemed heavier. His hair was wild as usual and his face full of grey stubble. He hadn't bothered to change into a cooler set of clothes, and Morty could spot a glean of sweat on Rick's somber face.

"H-hey Rick," Morty offered finally, his words coming out embarrassingly soft. He cleared his throat to try again "W-w-whatcha watchin'?"

Rick grunted, not turning to face his grandson and not even offering back a coherent syllable. Morty's face burned, his eyes stinging with tears almost immediately. _Flick, flick, flick._ Rick continued to surf through the channels, casting the two in flashes of darkness in between the changing colors. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Morty tried again.

"Was that the new _Two Brothers_ sequel you just past? W-what was it called again?" He forced out a laugh that was painfully fake. "O-oh right, i-i-it was _Two Brothers II: The Cloning Experiment_. H-hey, can you believe that reality had Michael Bay team up with Tyler Perry and they made it summer's hottest _musical_? O-o-oh man, I can only _imagine_ the-"

"What do you want, Morty?" Rick interrupted, spitting Morty's name in such a tone that he physically winced. Morty stared at his grandpa, who had finally turned his head toward him, with his mouth agape. Rick looked apathetically on at him, not appearing as irritated as he had sounded. There were new lines, Morty noted, on Rick's forehead. The sadness that had sunk into his belly bubbled up inside him, turning him hot with anger instead. His already-flushed face turned even redder.

"I'm just trying to make conversation with you, Rick!" He blurted, throwing his arms out a little in very subdued exasperation. "I-I-I don't know what to think! Y-you've pretty much just been ignoring me for months! A-a-and I- y-you never come home!" His sudden burst of courage was faltering at the sight of Rick's unchanging expression. He trailed off, fumbling on his words as usual, and Rick turned his attention back to flicking through the channels.

Not even a sarcastic retort. Just… silence. As Morty felt a hot, stinging tear roll down his cheek and he crumpled down onto the soft couch cushions. He was closer to Rick now, his head laying just beside his grandpa's lap.

"I've just never seen you like this. D-did-did I do something?" Morty muttered quietly. No response. He looked up at Rick, who still had his eyes fixed on the screen. More tears leaked down Morty's face, his stomach in knots. He felt pathetic for even asking the question, but the more directly Rick ignored him, the more desperate he became for his attention. Morty reached his hand up, placing it on Rick's khaki-clad thigh. Even if Rick pushed it away, yelled at him for having the _audacity_ to touch him when he was so clearly uninterested in the pathetic, waste of his time that talking to Morty would be, it would be _something_.

 _Flick, flick._ Nothing.

" _Please,_ Rick," Morty hated the sound of his voice as he begged. He looked up at Rick, face contorted into a pleading look as his hand traveled up his grandpa's leg. Rick wasn't hard, but his package was big. Knowing his grandpa wasn't the type to pass up a sexual proposition—there had been no times where Rick had to be convinced into fucking, while Morty felt coerced into lots of things with Rick—Morty squeezed Rick's dick gently through his pants. He was close enough that Morty didn't have to move far to place his head in Rick's lap, rubbing his mouth softly and slowly over the fabric that covered Rick's balls.

 _Flick._ Rick still hadn't looked down at his grandson, but his cock betrayed him as it began to grow hard at Morty's touch.

" _Rick,_ " The boy mumbled, drunk on the combination of anger, desperation, shame, and sadness that was causing him to rub his face all over his grandpa's bulge. Morty moved his mouth over Rick's balls, opening wide around them, his tongue running over the rough material. His body was slick with sweat and he felt his own dick getting hard as Rick's did. " _Mmmmm-please_."

 _Please pay attention to me, stop ignoring me_ had quickly turned into something else. Rick wasn't saying anything, but he wasn't pushing Morty off of his lap either. Over time, he had driven Morty's self-worth down to such a degree that Morty would happily throw himself onto his grandpa's cock to get his attention, his affection. Especially when he had been starved for months.

But Morty wasn't thinking about any of that as his hands moved up to Rick's belt, unbuckling it hastily and tearing down the zipper. He had never been hungrier, as if the oxytocin Rick extracted from the voles had been sprayed straight into his nostrils. Running his hands up and down Rick's now fully-erect dick, Morty let out a pathetic little moan. He was already salivating, thinking about his grandpa's cock sliding in and out of his mouth, his undivided attention on taking it all the way down to the back of his throat and Rick's undivided attention forced onto the owner of the mouth he was fucking.

Morty licked his lips, lowering them down slowly onto the tip. He was out of practice, but he knew how Rick liked it. Soft and slow at first, barely allowing the entire head of Rick's cock to fill up his mouth but letting the wetness of his mouth trail down. Morty's spit leaked from his mouth, oozing down Rick's hard shaft as he sucked and gently slithered his tongue around. It made it easier, then, with Morty's mouth incredibly wet and hot and Rick's dick sufficiently rock-hard from how his grandson's tongue teased, for Morty to take the whole fucking thing into his mouth and down his throat. It was so big, and Morty's throat so nice and tight, that no amount of practice could seem to allow Morty to suppress his gag reflex when he swallowed it. But Rick didn't mind. In fact, he'd always liked it.

" _Ah_ , fuck Morty" Rick finally moaned, his legs tensing and his hand going reflexively for his grandson's ass. As if he didn't even notice the validation he had been yearning for, Morty just kept sucking, spit rolling down his chin and down Rick's balls as he moved his head up and down, choking and sputtering around his mouthful. He clenched his hands into either side of Rick's pants, pulling his face down forcefully onto his grandpa's dick.

Rick's dick hadn't been inside anything lately, much less a wet, 14-year-old throat, and he couldn't help but curse and moan as his shaking legs pushed his cock up into Morty's mouth. With one strong hand, he squeezed Morty's asscheek, barely even having to pull up the tiny little shorts to give it a nice hard smack. Morty moaned hotly around his grandpa's dick, moving his mouth off of it only for a moment to express his gratitude for the spanking with a series of unintelligible wails of pleasure before sliding his lips back over Rick's cock, tongue welcoming the precum-slicked head greedily. With the other hand, Rick ran his fingers into Morty's brown hair, pulling on it slightly as he guided Morty's slurping mouth at a pace he could handle. His cock throbbed, and he felt like he was about to explode at any minute, but he hadn't had any in a while and he wanted to enjoy his grandson's enthusiasm. Up and down, Morty worked his mouth along Rick's shaft, nice and slow and deep. Rick pressed on the back of Morty's head, forcing his cock down the boy's throat as far as it would go.

"Ahhh, Morty" Rick mumbled, his fingers finding their way up through Morty's shorts and tracing along his asshole. Every time Morty allowed Rick's cock to slowly fill his throat, Rick pressed his finger a little harder against him, slipping barely half a digit inside to slowly, teasingly finger his grandson's hole. Morty whined and pushed his ass backward into Ricks hand, looking up at him as his mouth continued to work, up and down, up and down. Rick's face had grown flushed, too, and both of their bodies were hot and sticky and tense with sexual pleasure.

"O-oh Morty, don't- that's good, don't stop. Just like that, Morty." Rick's breathing suddenly became heavier, his grunts and moans more urgent, his thrusts up into Morty's mouth deeper and harder. Morty let out a gurgling noise, his nose running as Rick fucked his throat, mixing with the spit and tears that covered the rest of his face. "Oh, _fuck,_ Morty. _Fuck!_ "

Morty could feel Rick cumming into the back of his throat. Salty, hot and thick, he could feel it shoot powerfully into him and then ooze the rest of the way down. By the time he was finished, Rick had pulled his cock out a little, letting the remaining cum pool inside Morty's mouth. Morty collapsed back down into the couch cushions, his head resting against Rick's lap, and swallowed weakly. His jaw ached, his eyes watered, and he was covered in most of his own fluids and some of Rick's too.

Both facing the television, they stared at the screen, panting hard. Whatever show Rick had landed on before Morty had started was still playing. Some kind of infomercial or something? Exhausted, they both watched until their heavy eyes finally shut, falling asleep together on the couch, Rick's finger still inside Morty and the dull noise of inter-dimensional cable in the background.


End file.
